His hands were shaking a little, but it didn't really matter. He'd made up his fucking mind and he was sticking to it - no more half-assing things, no more wimping out. Well, okay. Wimping out. But it didn't really matter anyway because he was perfectly useless like this; unable to perform, undesirable and really actually very pointless. A blind mutant working in a brothel. He truly was a walking punchline. How had Gamzee always put it? A 'punchline-blooded motherfucker'. Sounded about right. The butt of every joke. Karkat Vantas, ladies and gentlemen.
He guessed he really didn't need anything, so he folded up the piece of paper he'd been writing on and hastily shoved it into the front pocket of his hoodie before leaving his room - taking the keys he had for the lock on his door with him.
Counting his steps and managing to not fall down the stairs somehow, he felt his way to the front desk. When he didn't hear a sound from behind it he rolled his eyes - of course no one would be there. He barely knew who ran the place and shouldn't have figured someone kept a vigilant eye out on the patrons and workers. Typical. Setting the keys onto the counter, he reached into his pocket.
"Fuck." Did he really lose the note ALREADY? "Fuck." Dropping to his knees, he pawed around on the floor for the folded piece of paper. He should have been more careful, more alert - he may have heard it fall that way, may have heard where it ended up. It could have still been in his room for all he knew. He just... needed to get it back. Needed to set it on the front desk with his keys, and just go. While the brothel was still devoid of people. While he still could. While he still had the courage.